


An Imperfect Friend

by wistfulpisces



Series: 221 Word Drabbles [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Inspired by Poetry, Love Confessions, M/M, POV John Watson, Pining, Pining John, Post-Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall, Post-Reichenbach, Post-Season/Series 02, Self-Hatred, just a little, so you already know it's gonna be angsty as hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 04:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14347842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistfulpisces/pseuds/wistfulpisces
Summary: Standing before his grave, John comes to terms with the bitter reality that he and Sherlock were never anything more than friends.





	An Imperfect Friend

Sometimes I think about the beginning: the restaurant, the candle and my absurd, involuntary lip-licking, an obvious beacon of my nervousness. I remember being so disappointed in your refusal. Then later, of course, I felt guilty, that sick-to-your-stomach guilt, like my insides were beginning to rot.

How could I have been so audacious as to hope you would possess a whit of interest for someone so ordinary as myself?

And hope as I may have done, we were never anything more than best friends. You couldn’t feel the way I wanted and even if you had, I wouldn’t have been able to act the way you needed. You needed rationale above all and unwavering loyalty; I fell to my knees before the altar of my emotions, an imperfect friend.

And yet, I was still disappointed several months following your funeral, because there it was — physical proof of the lies I had, until then, deluded myself could one day become truth. The one-sidedness of my depth of sentiment had finally been revealed to me in inarguable plainness. The black marble was embossed with three things: your name, date of birth, and date of death. No mention of your being a ‘loving partner’, a ‘cherished friend’ or even a ‘treasured companion’.

So I was grieving and bitter and rueful. And I was disappointed.


End file.
